


Life After

by respoftw



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 16:51:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13035396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/respoftw/pseuds/respoftw
Summary: Rodney tries to adjust to life after Atlantis.An alternate take on 'The Last Man' (kinda)





	Life After

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Brumeier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/gifts).



> Happy Secret Santa Bru!
> 
> I jumped at the chance to do another secret santa fic for Bru who remains one of my all-time favourite SGA writers. I hope you enjoy.

The envelope arrived six weeks after Rodney stepped through the Stargate to land back on Earth. It was the first piece of mail he'd received that wasn't junk, standing out against the usual Walmart flyers and over 50s retirement plan brochures that he was still more than a decade away from qualifying for.

He opened it over his morning coffee, not that he'd been to bed yet, expecting it to be from Jeannie or Daniel. He had been ignoring their calls and emails, had refused to open his front door the three times Daniel had tried to visit; he wouldn't be surprised if one of them had decided to try the more old-school method of physical mail to reach him.

It was so easy to reject a call or delete an email but he found himself opening the envelope automatically, his hands tearing into it before he could even think about it, a muscle memory ingrained over his almost two score years.

It wasn't from Daniel. Or Jeannie.

He didn't know who it was from but that didn't stop his blood from running cold. It didn't stop him from balling the single piece of paper that was inside up and throwing it in the trash. It didn't stop him from storming out his back door, garbage bag in hand, to dump the offending trash in the outside bin. It didn't stop him from slamming the lid of the bin closed before storming back inside.

Rodney swallowed the rest of his coffee in two long gulps, dimly aware of the ache in his jaw from clenching his teeth together, and swallowed two of the SGC prescribed sleeping pills he had left untouched for six weeks.

He picked his way through the maze of equation filled whiteboards towards the bedroom that he'd used far too few times in the past six weeks. The room was cold, dark and unwelcoming. The lights needed to be operated manually and the bed was too large. For four years Rodney had complained about the narrow Atlantis beds but somewhere along the line, he'd grown accustomed to them. The queen-sized bed seemed to mock him now, the empty space a painful reminder of just how alone he was.

Rodney collapsed onto the mattress, still fully clothed, and waited for the pills to kick in. Oblivion by sleeping pills was eminently preferable to the tumult of emotions that slip of paper had stirred up.

Six weeks away from Atlantis, six weeks of trying not to think about what he'd lost and one slip of paper with Lantean writing on it had obliterated that.

Vaguely, he wondered if he should contact someone about a security breach. Sending Lantean writing via the US postal service was probably a matter of national security. As the pills started to take effect, Rodney pondered whether he should have at least read the letter before throwing it out but the idea was whisked quickly away as awareness fled and the dreamless sleep that could only be achieved with chemical help overtook him.

* * *

 

Rodney slept for sixteen hours straight and woke up feeling foggier than he had before he crashed. The trash had been emptied while he slept so any lingering regret about not reading the letter was pushed aside. He had other things to focus on anyway.

The days slipped away like they had in the six weeks before the envelope had arrived; in a haze of caffeine, power bars, ink-stained fingers, dodged calls and countless whiteboards filled with nothing useful.

Six weeks became seven and they were close to becoming eight when Laura Cadman broke into his apartment and ruined his routine.

It was a Friday night and Rodney had been drinking a beer while staring moodily at his latest set of equations. It was the same shitty brand of beer that they had on Atlantis - another thing Rodney had gotten used to despite his constant complaining. Friday nights - what they had deemed as Friday nights anyway - on Atlantis rarely coincided with anything approaching a calm period. There wasn't much calm and quiet in Atlantis, period. But when things were under control and Friday night rolled around, Rodney had often found himself being dragged out to sit at the end of the eastern pier and forced to drink the lukewarm swill that passed as beer. It had been the closest he had gotten to happy in a long time.

Drinking alone in his apartment wasn't the same.

“Got a beer for me, McKay?”

Rodney yelped in surprise as a voice that he would never forget interrupted his thoughts. He jerked upright from his slumped position on the couch and spilled a few drops of beer on his ratty brown ‘I'm With Genius’ t-shirt.

“How the hell did you get in here?” Rodney twisted to glare at his intruder, heart hammering a mile a minute.

Cadman grinned sweetly. “A lady never reveals her secrets.”

Rodney scoffed at the word ‘lady’, earning a swat to the back of his head.

“I could call the cops you know,” he continued. "Last I checked, breaking and entering was a crime.”

Laura cheerfully ignored him. Her nose wrinkled as she looked around the room. “Wow, McKay. And I thought your quarters on Atlantis were a pig sty.”

Rodney ignored the painful clench in his chest and went back to his beer. “Well, now that you've imparted that vitally important observation you can let yourself out.”

“Not happening,” Laura said as she picked her way across the room. She settled onto the couch next to him, pulling an open bag of Cheetos from the seat cushions as she went. Sniffing at the open bag, she shrugged and helped herself to a handful. “We've given you two months to mope, Rodney. It's time to start thinking about the future.”

Rodney laughed around his beer bottle. If only she knew how ridiculous her words were. The future was all he thought about. “Who's ‘we’?” he asked witheringly, putting as much bitterness as he could into the question.

Laura rolled her eyes in answer. “Let me guess, you didn't read the letter.”

Rodney’s eyes widened. “That was you?” His beer threatened to spill again and Laura pulled it out of his hands.

“I told him that you wouldn't read it. Get your coat, McKay. I'm taking you to an AA meeting.” Her nose wrinkled again as Rodney sputtered. “Actually, on second thoughts, take a shower, put some clothes that aren't covered in Cheeto dust on and _then_ I'll take you to the meeting.”

“One beer doesn't make me an alcoholic,” Rodney replied acidly.

Laura grinned in answer. “That's not what the first ‘A’ stands for.”

She had Rodney's attention now and she knew it.

“Now, seriously,” she continued. “Shower. You reek.”

* * *

“We were all sorry to hear about - -“

“Don't.”

“Rodney - -“

“Just shut up and drive, Cadman.”

* * *

The place Laura drove him to looked a lot like how Rodney imagined an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting would look; a non-descript meeting room in a non-descript community centre, the folding Formica table holding a box of Dunkin’ Donuts and a carafe of coffee.

The people even had the same desperate look in their eyes, like they were missing something that they couldn't have. Rodney supposed it was true.

He recognised some of the faces as he made his way to the coffee pot. Bates was there; Rodney had heard he was working with the IOA now and couldn’t imagine a person better suited to the job. He had never really forgiven Bates for the way he treated Teyla and the rest of the Athosians during their first weeks in Atlantis. Still, the man hadn't deserved the beating he'd taken from the Wraith. He wouldn't wish the Wraith on anyone.

“Nice to see you again, Dr McKay,” Bates said. “We were all - -“

Rodney turned away, his coffee mug in hand, not listening to the rest of Bates’ words. From the corner of his eye, he saw Laura take Bates aside and murmur something to him. Bates’ eyes flitted quickly towards Rodney before flitting away as he nodded in understanding.

Rodney couldn't even bring himself to care. Instead, he sipped at his surprisingly decent coffee and wondered, not for the first time, why he had let Laura drag him here.

Atlantis Anonymous. The idea was more than a little bit ridiculous. Rodney set himself in the corner and let his eyes sweep the room. Some of the faces he only knew vaguely while others were more familiar. There was the little Japanese scientist who used to bow whenever he came into the labs. Radek had always found that amusing; he used to joke that Rodney must wish everyone else followed her example but, truthfully, Rodney had always found it profoundly uncomfortable. She looked well though. Rodney vaguely remembered her leaving soon after they made contact with Earth - something about a sick sister. Or maybe it was a brother?

Rodney recognised Sergeant Stackhouse - or the ex-Sergeant Stackhouse as he was now. The soldier had resigned his commission after Markham had been killed, fuelling rumours that the two men had been more than just friends. Rodney hoped it wasn't true; he wouldn't wish that kind of pain on anyone.

Rodney hung back and watched as these people interacted with each other, talking and mingling and studiously avoiding staring at Rodney.

Well, most of them.

“You gonna stay hidden in that corner all night?” Laura asked, a jelly donut in her hand.

“Your the one who dragged me here,” Rodney said, eyeing the donut greedily. Laura sighed, a half smile on her lips, and held the donut out for him to take. “What exactly is the point of this place anyway?” he continued with his mouth full.

“It's the island of misfit toys,” Laura shrugged. She laughed at Rodney's blank look. “Yeah, you maybe missed that one. It's a place that those of us who, for whatever reason, couldn't stay on Atlantis can come and talk to people who understand. People who get it.” She looked around the room and shrugged. “Even those of us who still work under the mountain…the SGC don't understand what it's like to be on Atlantis. They definitely don't understand what it's like to not be there anymore. We do. Who knows?” She grinned at Rodney. “It might even help you.”

Rodney sniffed, unimpressed. “It all sounds like a waste of time to me,” he said. “It doesn't change anything. Some of us are trying to move on.”

“Right,” Laura said. “Move on. That's why your apartment is literally littered with whiteboards. That's why you've barely left it in two months.”

“What? Are you spying on me now?”

“I'm not spying on you, Rodney,” Laura said. “I know you. I’ve been inside your head in case you've forgotten and I know what this whole situation must be doing to you and - -“

“You don't know anything about me.” Rodney snapped, his voice loud in the small room, causing heads to turn towards them. He glared until they all looked away and continued in a lower voice. “You have no idea what I'm going through.”

Laura’s face was soft with understanding and Rodney wanted to - - well, he would never hit a woman unprovoked but it was close thing.

“I know that you're in pain,” she said. “And I know that I want to help. That's good enough for me. When Daniel had the idea to start this place - -“

“Daniel?” Rodney interrupted. “Daniel Jackson? He started this place?”

Laura nodded.

“What the hell does he know about losing Atlantis? How could he have lost it?”

“You know what they say,” Laura said. “About how it's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.”

Rodney’s coffee turned bitter in his throat. Feeling his hands start to shake, he carefully placed his coffee mug on a window sill and swallowed the lump that had appeared in his throat.

“They don't know what they're talking about,” he said quietly. “I think I'd like to go home now.”

Laura didn't argue. She gently took his arm and guided him out the room. Nobody said anything as they left, they all politely averted their eyes, and Laura's hand remained on his arm all the way across the parking lot and only left it when they had to separate to get in the car.

The sudden absence of its warm presence was jarring and Rodney found himself far too close to tears to make any sense.

The drive back to his apartment was silent. Rodney spent the entire time looking out of the passenger window and watching the streets of Colorado Springs pass by. It was hardly a metropolis but the roads seemed too crowded, too bustling to Rodney's eyes.

It wasn't home anymore.

Rodney wasn't ever sure it could be again.

After what seemed like forever, they pulled up outside his house. Rodney reached for the door handle, then hesitated. He should say thank you or something, right? For the concern if not for the actual outing which Rodney still thought was a waste of time.

“Don't worry about it,” Laura said, letting him off the hook. “Just, just remember that you still have friends here, ok? And maybe clean up your living room once in a while, huh? It's disgusting in there.”

Any goodwill Laura had been building up was lost at the parting shot and Rodney slammed the car door shut behind him, stalking across his front lawn to let himself in his front door.

He paused just inside the door, looking at the room with fresh eyes. Laura was right. This place was a mess. Rodney stomped across the hall to the kitchen and rummaged in some drawers for garbage bags. Finding a strip of them, he tore a few off and went back into the living room, starting to stuff any rubbish lying about into them.

He would get more work done if his workspace was clean, he told himself. That was the only reason he was cleaning. It had nothing to do with strawberry blonde marines who made him feel less alone for the first time in two months.

Yeah, he thought, keep telling yourself that.

* * *

“You cleaned up. It's about time.”

Rodney was less surprised to hear Cadman’s voice again than he really should have been. The most surprising thing about it was that she'd left it a whole two weeks before showing up.

“You know, there's this called a telephone,” he said without turning around from his latest calculations. “Civilised people use it before dropping by. They don't let themselves in either.”

Laura shrugged and draped herself across Rodney's couch. “I have it on good authority that you don't answer calls. Or doors. So I took the direct route.”

“And what do you want this time?”

“I thought you might like to go for a run.”

Rodney almost dropped his marker.

“A run? On what planet does that sound like something I would want to do?”

“Planet Earth maybe?” Laura leaned over and poked at his belly, causing Rodney to back up a step. “Come on McKay, you don't want all that hard work you put in on Atlantis being wasted, do you?”

Rodney glared at her. “Don't you have something better to do than annoy me? Like shooting at paper targets or blowing things up? Marine-type things.”

“Not a marine anymore, so no.”

Rodney hadn't known that. He hated not knowing things.

“Since when?” he asked, all pretence at working on his equations gone.

Laura shifted uncomfortably on the couch which was ridiculous as Rodney knew for a fact that his couch was insanely comfortable. He'd tried seventeen different models before he settled on this one.

“The shine of being an explosives expert sort of wears off when someone you care pretty deeply about dies in an explosion,” Laura said quietly. “It was time to try something different.”

Rodney wasn't sure what to say to that. He fiddled with the marker in his hands for a moment before sitting down next to Laura (although he made sure to leave a gap of about a foot between them.)

“I didn't realise you and Carson were still…” he trailed off, gesturing with his hands to indicate something that he couldn't put into words.

“We weren't,” she said. “But I never stopped…I mean, I guess I always thought that someday we’d…I still cared about him.”

“Oh.” Rodney cleared his throat and reached out awkwardly, his hand hovering uncertainly over Laura’s until she rolled her eyes and grabbed it, offering more comfort than she was taking. Rodney continued. “He felt the same way about you. With the, y’know, maybe someday thing.”

Laura laughed, wiping at an errant tear with her other hand. “I'm not sure if that makes me feel better or worse. You went to see his Mom, right? In Scotland?”

“Yes.” Rodney didn't like to think back on that visit. Mrs Beckett had been a kind and lovely woman. Far too kind in some respects.

“Did you go and see J- -“

Rodney pulled his hand away. “I don't want to talk about that,” he snapped. He stood up and walked back over to his equations. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm busy.”

Laura sighed. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pressure you. But you need to know that we're here to listen when you're ready. It doesn't have to be me. Any one of us would be there. Us ex-Lanteans have to stick together.”

Rodney ignored her, concentrating hard on his writing and trying not to fall apart. He'd been getting good at that; not falling apart. It had been almost a whole week since he'd last done it.

“A rain check on the run then,” Laura said, standing up. “The next AA meeting is set for a week from Tuesday. I'll be here to pick you up. Six o’clock.”

“Don't waste your time,” Rodney said. “I won't be going.”

Laura smiled brightly, ignoring him. She moved closer, leaned over and pecked him on the cheek.

“A week from Tuesday,” she said again. “Six o’clock. Remember and shower before I get here this time.”

Rodney gritted his teeth and feigned concentration until he heard the front door close. As soon as he was alone, he hurled his marker at the wall where it crashed before falling straight to the floor and rolling a few inches.

Sighing, Rodney walked over and picked it up before turning to his board again and resuming his work.

* * *

A week from the next Tuesday, at six o'clock, Rodney slammed the passenger side door of Cadman’s car as he climbed in.

“Not a word,” he said.

“Not even a hello?” Laura teased, shifting the car into drive.

“I have a limited quota for small talk,” Rodney cautioned. “Do you really want me wasting it on you on the drive there?”

Laura grinned. “Music it is then,” she said, pressing the audio button on the central console.

Rodney was pleasantly surprised to hear the familiar refrain of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake fill the car. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at Laura.

“What?” she asked defensively. “I like ballet, alright? I'm not changing it.”

“No, it's good,” Rodney reassured her. “I - ah - I like it.”

The drive passed pleasantly, Rodney getting lost in the music until they arrived at the same community centre as before. He wrinkled his nose at the sight of the place.

“Put that face away,” Laura admonished. “No one bothers us here. What? You'd rather we meet up in a restaurant or bar and have everyone listen in as we talk about Wraith and wormholes to another Galaxy?”

Rodney shushed her as a community centre employee walked past.

“We've got it covered, McKay,” she laughed. “You're officially entering the Wormhole Extreme fan forum meeting. Sometimes we even dress up.”

Rodney made to turn around and head for the exit - not wanting to be in any way associated with a show as scientifically challenged as Wormhole Extreme, even if it was just a pretence - but Laura stopped him easily with a hold on his arm. Maybe she was right. Maybe he did need to work out a bit more. It was a little bit galling how easily Cadman had restrained him. Not that he would ever have been able to take her in a fight - she had been a marine after all - but he should at least have been able to break free from her grip. Too many Kraft dinners and not enough exercise, not to mention the lack of running for his life, was taking its toll.

All thoughts of healthy lifestyle changes flew out of Rodney’s head as he walked into the room.

“Are those findirs bean cookies?” Rodney asked, mouth already watering. Findirs beans were one of the staples that they had traded for on Atlantis. Most Pegasus Galaxy natives found the beans too cloying but, when crushed, they tasted like a mix of peanut butter and marshmallow. Rodney had gone through almost every cookie in his local grocery store trying to find anything remotely like it on Earth.

He stuffed one in his mouth and moaned happily at the taste. God, he'd missed these.

“The Daedalus must have just got back,” Laura hummed happily as she took an equally huge bite of her own cookie. “Miko is dating one of the crewmen. He keeps us in Pegasus delicacies. I think there's some Tuttle root soup too.”

“Tuttle root soup!” Rodney exclaimed. He grabbed four more cookies for later and started looking for the soup. The warm, spicy smell of Tuttle root was strangely calming and Rodney found himself feeling settled for the first time since stepping through the gate.

“Glad you came now, aren't you?” Laura smirked.

“The evening can only get worse from here,” Rodney countered.

The funny thing was, it didn't. Rodney didn't participate much but he was surprised by just how much comfort could be found in sitting in a hard-backed plastic chair and listening to other people talk.

Rodney even caught himself smiling as Stackhouse recounted the time that Kavanagh’s hair turned bright orange.

The focus was very much on the past rather than discussing what was happening on Atlantis now and Rodney couldn't help but wonder if that was for his benefit. Although the studious way any mention of Markham was avoided within Stackhouse’s earshot suggested that he wasn't the only one that people were being careful of.

They had all lost something in leaving Atlantis. The only difference between them and him was that most of them had gained something here on Earth. It was strange to realise that they could acknowledge the first while accepting the second.

Rodney wasn't quite there yet.

He wasn't sure if he ever would be.

* * *

A few weeks later and the only thing Rodney had gained from Earth was the dubious pleasure of Laura Cadman showing up at his front door every few days. She still hadn't managed to talk him into going for a run with him but Rodney had started letting her drink the good coffee. He really should know better; he'd fed enough stray cats to know that once you gave them the good stuff there was no getting rid of them.

He was finding that he didn't mind in this case. It was nice to not feel so alone. Jeannie and Daniel’s attempts to contact him had tapered off, finally giving up after months of silence. Rodney hadn't deleted the last email Jeannie sent. He hadn't read it yet, but he hadn't deleted it. That was progress. Of a sort anyway.

Still, Laura was the only contact he had with the outside world other than his weekly trips to the grocery store or his occasional interactions with delivery drivers. So, when the doorbell rang at 2 pm on a Tuesday, Rodney could be forgiven for assuming it was Cadman.

“Since when do you not just let yourself in,” he called from his spot hunched over his laptop. “Don't tell me you suddenly bought some manners? It’s open. Close the door quick before you let in the cold.”

“I'll have you know that my manners are impeccable, McKay. Never had a complaint that I've listened to yet.”

General Jack O’Neill looked incongruous in his Air Force uniform, the starch lines at odds with the controlled chaos of Rodney's living space. He didn't look as though he belonged and, as far as Rodney was concerned, he didn't.

“What are you doing here, Jack?” Rodney lifted his laptop off his lap and onto the arm of his couch.

“I think the real question is, what are you doing here, McKay?” Jack countered. “We’ve kept away these past few months because you deserved that time to get your head together. But I think it's time that you got back to work, don't you? There's only so much time alone a man can take before it starts getting dangerous. Believe me, I know.” He waved his hands around, gesturing at the scribbled equations, multiple whiteboards and stacks of paper. “This, ah, this wouldn't be breaching any security clauses now would it?”

“This has nothing to do with the SGC,” Rodney said. “And neither do I anymore. I thought I had made that clear when I left. Maybe I should have made sure to use only single syllable words so you would understand. _I quit_. There, how about that? Any clearer?”

Jack looked as unimpressed by his second resignation as he had been by his first. “Come on, McKay,” he said. “What? Are you angling for a raise? We both know that you live for your work - -“

“You have no idea what I lived for,” Rodney snapped, his anger spilling over. “None whatsoever.”

Jack’s lips thinned, his perpetual smirk falling off just for a second.

“I'm not gonna ask,” he said, “but, know this: the mission is bigger than any one man, McKay. It's bigger than all of us. We don't have the luxury of cutting and running when the going gets tough; we keep going and keep pushing because it's the right thing to do.” Jack sighed, his voice softening for a moment. “We were all sorry to lose Sheppard but if you think that he would want you to - -“

Rodney’s laptop clattered to the floor as Rodney stood up violently enough to dislodge it. “You have no right to tell me what John would want,” he said coldly. “Do you know what I think John would want? I think he'd want people trying to find him, I think he'd want the US military institution where he had dedicated his entire adult life to give a damn about him and find a way to figure out where he’d - -“

“Colonel Sheppard is dead,” Jack said quietly, almost compassionately. “The sooner you accept that the sooner you can start to move on instead of whatever the hell this is.” He swept his arms around the mess of the room again.

Rodney was so angry that he could barely speak. He could barely hear. It was like all of his senses were shorting out, a white noise of anger eclipsing him. How dare Jack speak to him like that. John was not dead, he wasn't. He wasn't.

“I think it’s time for you to leave, Sir.”

Rodney almost didn't recognise Laura’s voice; he'd never heard it so cold. He didn't fully follow what happened next but after a few moments and some raised voices that he struggled to understand, the sound of the front door closing pierced through his fog and Rodney felt small, strong hands take hold of him and guide him to sit. He hadn't even realised he was shaking until he was forced to still.

“He's not dead,” he said again, imploring Laura, someone, anyone to believe him.

“Rodney - -“ she straightened up from picking his laptop up and sighed.

“No!” Rodney cut off her platitudes before they could start. “I'm telling you, he's not dead!”

“The wormhole cut out mid-transmission, Rodney. Teyla and Ronon both said he had stepped into it from the other side.”

“All that means is that he didn't rematerialise in Atlantis,” Rodney stressed. “We've seen it before,” he said. “Jack’s even lived through it before. A solar flare at the precise moment SG1 stepped through the gate transported them two decades into the past.”

“They checked the satellites, Rodney, I know they did. There were no solar flares reported.”

“It doesn't have to be a solar flare. It could be anything. We only understand a tiny, fractional percent of how the gates work, they could be affected by a multitude of things. He might not even be in the past. He could be in the future, or an alternate universe or - -“

Laura was kind enough not to say again what another alternative was.

“Is that what you're doing here, with all this? Trying to figure out what happened?”

Rodney nodded.

“Probably easier to do on Atlantis, I would think.”

He snorted bitter laughter. “Why do you think I was kicked out?”

“A temporary leave of absence,” Laura corrected.

“An imposed leave of absence because they wanted rid of me,” Rodney argued before sighing. “I was neglecting everything else.  For months. All I wanted to work on was this because I'm so sure I'm right. I know I am. And who else is gonna figure out a way to bring him home except for me? But, no, they wouldn't….Carson would have believed me. He wouldn't have sent me away.”

“You’re right,” Laura said, smiling sadly. “He would have backed you completely. Which is why I'm gonna do that now. So, come on Rodney, what's the plan?”

“You're going to help me?” he said. “Why? And how? You're a - -“

“A graduate of CalTech with a Masters degree in electrical engineering? Yes, I am. Now, what's the plan?” She grinned at Rodney, almost daring him to deny her help. Rodney knew better than that. If there was anything he'd learned these past few weeks it was that Laura Cadman did not take no for an answer.

He was almost nervous about disappointing her with his answer. And he knew that he would disappoint her, as surely as he'd been disappointing himself. The truth was, without access to Atlantis’ gate system there wasn't much he could do. There hadn't been much he could do on Atlantis. Every avenue he had explored was a dead end. At the moment his only even remotely possible solution was a time machine. He'd go back to that day and stop John from walking through the Stargate. Or maybe he'd want to go back further and go fishing with Carson. Or stop John from waking the Wraith. Or - it was a slippery slope that Rodney was terrified of falling down.

“Not quite there yet?” Laura asked, saving him from having to admit it. She shrugged. “Well, maybe a run will clear your head. You might even find inspiration.”

Rodney hit her with a pillow.

* * *

Rodney thought a lot about Jack’s words over the next few days. Especially the bit about how John wouldn't have wanted him to - well, Jack hadn't got a chance to finish that sentence. He imagined Jack would have gone on to say some gung-ho military drivel about the greater good and how John would have wanted Rodney to continue his work with the SGC to keep Earth safe.

Jack didn't really know John that well when it all came down to it, not like Rodney did. But, the truth was, Jack was partially right.

John wouldn't want Rodney to live like this. He wouldn't want Rodney to spend his life finding a way to bring him back to the detriment of everything else. And, yeah, part of that would no doubt be because of John's complete lack of belief that his life was worth something and that it was something other people should or would fight for. He could be kind of stupid that way. But, another part of it, Rodney couldn't help but think, would be the genuine regret John would feel at being the cause of Rodney's loneliness and unhappiness.

Once Rodney reconciled himself to that fact, he knew that he had to make some changes.

His mind resolute, Rodney found an empty space on the back right-hand corner of the whiteboard beside the kitchen door and made a list of things.

 _Life After_ , he titled it.

The list started with only three items on it (1. Get a cat; 2. Call Jeannie; 3. Learn to cook) but somehow it didn't stay that simple. Life, he supposed, never did.

* * *

 

 **4\. Start running with Laura twice a week.**  
Watching Laura’s mouth drop open with the shock almost made that one worthwhile but after his first mile, he changed his mind about that.

 **9\. Start taking calls from the SGC.**  
“I'm only consulting,” he reminded Jack, not likening the way his eyes lit up. “One day a week unless there's an end of the world level emergency.”

“Absolutely,” Jack nodded seriously. “Besides, It's not like there's many of them around here.”

And Rodney had thought he was supposed to be the sarcastic one.

_**23\. Put your damn cat on a diet, McKay.** _

**24\. This is my list, Cadman, get your own.**

**37\. Buy Christmas presents for the entire AA group**  
He got a bulk deal on Wormhole Extreme t-shirts from eBay. Every single person wore theirs to the next meeting.  Rodney hated everyone and everything.

**54\. Put cat on diet**

**62\. Buy new running shoes to replace worn out ones**

**74\. Buy airline tickets to Toronto for Madison’s ballet recital**

~~**87\. Talk to Teyla about birth control** ~~

**87\. Send baby gift to Teyla in Atlantis**

* * *

Through it all though he never stopped trying to find a way to bring John back. After six months he was almost certain that John had been sent to the future, he just needed to refine his calculations a bit more. After a year, he was certain that was what had happened.

After fourteen months, John arrived back on Atlantis as if nothing had ever happened.

* * *

Rodney's first glimpse of John in almost eighteen months was through the plexiglass of the SGC control room window. His entire body twitched when John stepped out from the event horizon, a barely held back lunge to fling himself down the stairs and wrap his arms around John.

He knew he wouldn't have been able to hold himself back from doing just that if he'd been waiting at the bottom of the ramp with Landry, Daniel and the others. But he couldn't stay away entirely, couldn't even fathom it.

Ever since he'd gotten that phone call, the one that had brought him to his knees as his legs gave out on him, Rodney had felt like he was dreaming. Then John stepped through the gate. He swept his eyes around the gate room, looking for something and not finding it if the small frown on his face was any indicator. Ignoring Landry’s words of welcome, he raised his head to look at the control room, his eyes zeroing in on Rodney. It wasn't until that moment that Rodney allowed himself to believe that this was real, that John was really here.

John raised his hand in greeting, a half smile on his face before the medical team started to swarm him, pulling his attention reluctantly away.

As soon as their eyes broke contact, Rodney almost collapsed in on himself. He couldn't help the small, stifled sob of relief that escaped him, small enough, he hoped, that only Harriman would have heard it.

“They should be done with him by 1600,” Walter said quietly, his voice pitched low enough not to carry to the other techs. “They asked me to assign him a room on base but the only free guest rooms are in need of repair. If you don't mind, Dr McKay, he might be more comfortable staying at your place. Friendly face and all.”

Rodney, who knew that there was nothing at all wrong with any of the guest quarters, swallowed his gushing gratitude and nodded abruptly. “That would be acceptable,” he said, his voice only breaking a tiny bit on ‘acceptable.’

“It's much appreciated, Doctor. If you want to return to the labs, I can let you know when he'll be free.”

Rodney nodded again, stuffing his hands into his pocket to keep from hugging the small man.

* * *

At 1604, Rodney was waiting on the top level of the mountain complex. John walked out of the elevator, flanked by Daniel Jackson and an airman that Rodney didn't know.

“And this is where I'll leave you,” Daniel said. “In Rodney’s capable hands. Call us if you need anything.” He waited for John to nod before he turned his attention to Rodney. “Rodney, I'll see you at the meeting Thursday night?”

It was Rodney's turn to nod and Daniel bobbed his head as well, as if not to feel left out, before waving them off and out the building.

The walk to Rodney's car was painfully silent. Rodney had no clue what to say and what he wanted to do needed to wait until they weren't in a military installation and - -

“Uh, I'm sorry, what?” He'd missed John's question, too lost in his own thoughts.

John smiled weakly and repeated himself. “I was just asking what meeting that you and Daniel were - -“

“Oh, uh, the AA meeting,” he said.

John stopped walking and held his arm out, blocking Rodney's path to his car. Rodney frowned up at him, taken aback by the concern on John's face for a moment before he reflected on his words. His eyes widened as he rushed to clarify. “No, no, I mean, not AA. I mean, yes _AA_ but it's not the same A. Atlantis,” he said, shrugging.

John nodded, growing quiet again, and they walked the short distance to Rodney's car. Johnny Cash blared out over the stereo as Rodney turned the ignition and he flushed. “I, ah, it seemed appropriate given what was happening today,” he said. He didn't say how often this past year and a half he'd found himself listening to Cash but John seemed to get it anyway. Rodney had always thought it was cute when the tips of his ears turned red like that.

Rodney pulled out of his parking space and soon they were on the road that would take Rodney home.

The silence was starting to weigh on Rodney oppressively and Rodney started to fear that it was down to something other than awkwardness and their twin inability to talk about anything resembling feelings. Maybe John hated him. Maybe John blamed him for what happened, for the eighteen months he'd lost in the future, for not bringing him back.

“I tried,” Rodney blurted out. “I never stopped working on a way to get you back and, ok, maybe I wasn’t anywhere close to figuring out how to do it but you have to know that I would never have given up. I don't know what O’Neill told you about why I wasn't on Atlantis but I couldn't be there and give everything to looking for you, I just couldn't and - -“

“Rodney, Rodney, I know. I know.”

John's voice cut across his babbling and Rodney swung his head up to look at him, noticing blankly that they were pulled over to the side of the road. Huh, when did that happen?

John reached over and squeezed Rodney's knee. “I know. I - it was _you_ who brought me back, buddy. I know exactly what you did and I don't know if I'll ever be able to repay you.”

“It was me?” Rodney shook his head, not believing him. “It couldn't have been. I was nowhere close to - -“

“It was you,” John said again. “I stepped through that gate and Atlantis was…it was dead and empty and - - then you were there. Not _you_ you but a hologram or, I don't know, but it was _you_ and you'd figured it out, Rodney. Not just where I was but how to bring me back.”

“I did it? I mean, of course, I would have cracked it eventually but, really? I did it?”

John smiled. “You were a lot older than you are now,” his eyes raked over Rodney, drinking him in. He reached out and touched the hair at Rodney's temples. “There was a lot less of this.”

“Hey,” Rodney protested weakly, causing John to laugh.

“You never gave up. While I was there I had to, to cross Atlantis and you kept me company, told me what your life had been like and - - thank you. For everything.” He chuckled wryly. “I mean, I think you'd intended for me to arrive back a little earlier than I did but…”

“You were 48,000 years in the future! Do you have any idea how infinitesimal a miscalculation of eighteen months is?” Rodney defended his future self.

“Around 0.003%,” John answered immediately. “You did good, Rodney. I'm just sorry that I kept you waiting so long, sorry that you had to go through that.”

“It wasn't all that bad,” Rodney answered truthfully. “I mean, the missing you was, it was…there aren't any words for it but the rest of it was…”

“You'll have to teach me how you did it,” John said. “Carry on after losing Atlantis,” he added, clarifying when Rodney made a confused noise.

“But you, no, you can't. They - -“

“They survive without me, Rodney. They survive without us. And 48,000 years makes you realise what’s really important to you. I'm not saying we’ll never go back but…”

_“We?”_

_“We,”_ John agreed. He lifted his hand from Rodney's knee and cleared his throat, looking away. “So, what do you say? You up for teaching me what life after Atlantis looks like?”

Oh no, Rodney was not about to let John dodge this for another second longer. He didn't get to say things like that and just - - Rodney huffed in frustration and reached out, guiding John's face towards his until they were breathing each other's air.

“It looks a little something like this,” he said, before bringing their lips together in a kiss. It started tentatively, almost as if John wasn't sure that he was allowed to kiss back. Rodney pressed harder, turning the kiss into something more desperate and John moaned in surrender, giving in and opening up. His hands grabbed at Rodney's hair and Rodney hummed in approval, moving his own hands to cup John's jaw, really regretting that they were doing this sitting down in a car.

After a few wonderful moments, John broke away but left his forehead touching Rodney’s, both of them breathing heavily.

“That's life after Atlantis, huh?” he said once he could talk again. “I think I'm gonna like it.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to librarychick94 for the super quick beta.


End file.
